


Dragon Scales

by Aldeen



Category: American Dragon: Jake Long
Genre: Gen, Short Stories, headcanons
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-03
Updated: 2020-12-05
Packaged: 2021-02-27 09:41:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 1,981
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22104988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aldeen/pseuds/Aldeen
Summary: A collection of various American Dragon: Jake Long shorts, mostly focussing on the World Dragons and headcanons about them. Will most likely feature OCs
Kudos: 13





	1. Fred Nerk - The Foundling

The name he bears is not the one his parents had given him. Most likely, he would think for years to come with bitterness, they had not given him a name at all.  
On his papers ‘Fred Nerk’ was written, a name selected by an overworked social worker in the orphanage on New years eve for the foundling laying on the steps of their house.  
He had been one of many for years. He had seen many boys arrive and leave within the year with wide smiles and clutching the hand of someone who would love them.  
Fred had stayed behind, had waved goodbye and secretly wiped the tears from the corners of his eyes. He had wondered for such a long time why he had not been enough.  
He had been thirteen for a week and sick for almost as long, when, instead of spitting out bile, he had choked out a small flame into the washbasin of their bathroom. With wide eyes he had stumbled backwards and pressed his hands against his mouth.  
He convinced himself that it was the fever, that this could not be happening, that he was hallucinating.  
But afterwards it went fast.  
The next day a lady stood at their doorstep with a kind smile and dark hair. The boys eyed her with curiosity, acting on their best behaviour. But she had pointed to Nerk, who could not believe his eyes. He was far older than the others, but he nevertheless went with her, not believing his luck.  
Mutyâ was her name and while they sat in a coffeeshop, drinking hot chocolate, she explained everything to Nerk.  
Who, or better, What he was and what coursed through his veins.  
He could not believe her, simply couldn’t.  
Not until he saw her change form later that day. As simple as some people tossed away a jacket, the woman, so sweet and kind and gentle, tossed away her human disguise. And revealed a beast with wings and claws and teeth, that Nerk only knew from myth.

She had taken him in as her pupil and she had told him of his responsibility, of his destiny. And Fred bore it with enormous pride. Finally, finally he had a purpose and most important, he was wanted. He was not one of many, but instead he was the Australian Dragon. The First Australian Dragon in the order, admired and looked up to.  
Oh how he relished in this feeling, how he had desired this for so many years. And it blinded him, his pride in his new found position overshadowed everything else.

And when this new kid came around, what else should Fred have done? Jake Long was cocky and full of pride and ego and so much like him that Fred could not tolerate him in his own backyard. But worst of all, Jake had heritage and family, the things Fred had not been able to replace with his newfound purpose, now matter how hard he tried. And he could not help to feel jealous.

But then Jake had saved him from the Dark Dragon and even risked losing his Grandfather as his Dragonmaster, just because it was the right thing to do. Not because it would bring him admiration or status, but because he could not leave Fred behind.

And Fred Nerk learned much in this short time he spent with Jake Long.  
Do what is right. Even if it hurts you.


	2. Kjetil Kulde - The Wolfslayer

Kjetil Kulde buried his mother when he was not yet able to drink. She had not been dead for twenty-four hours when he took up the mantle of the Norwegian Dragon she had left behind. He had no choice, he was the only one left. The others had been torn apart by the Wolves, struck by sharp claws and mauled by unforgiving teeth.  
He was Norways last hope for a protector, the last one with the thick scales of the North that would offer him protection.  
But they could not save him when he laying in the snow, staring at the stars, choking up blood. The teeth had ripped him apart, like his mother and grandfather and so many more before him.  
But unlike them, he was saved by a young man who had ignored orders, who uttered words in a foreign language to him but that had kept him alive until help arrived.  
He was thankful and the man would be his friend until his last breath.

He rallied the others, yelled with a loud voice and discussed for endless hours. They would follow him, the other Nordic dragons. Together they were strong.  
And together they won.  
He stood amidst the blood of the monsters that had tormented his kind for so long and roared at the sky.  
_Wolfslayer _had Janek Einarsson called him laughing. The nickname would stick for many years.  
But deep inside, Kulde knew that they had won a battle. But the war was not over, it would not be until the last Wolf was dead. But the Wolves kept hidden, undetected and the dragons were forced to wait. Wait and prepare for battle.__

____

He stood by a grave again, not too long after. His sister had been sick, she had always been. He held her two small children, far too young to understand that their mother would never return. He took them in and vowed to protect them above everything else.

__

They grew up and he worried like a father does. Erik breathed ice on his candle when he was nine and Ansgar came home with two hands turned to claws and Kulde knew, had feared, that they would live in the same hell as him. But the Wolves were quiet, so very quiet. They never left his mind, too much suffering had been inflicted onto the Dragons of the North to ever forget. But his sons did not have to celebrate their adulthood with a bloodbath and for that Kulde was grateful.

__

Erik asked for his birthright, tall and proud with eyes like ice. The same eyes as Kuldes and those of every Protector before him. And Kulde handed him the title with shaking hands.  
He prayed to his old gods that Erik would never have to answer the same call as him.

__

His election as a Councilor was a narrow one and initially not well received. The cursed blood of his lineage had been brought up many times, but the mark of the Huntsclan had not shown itself for many years. Nevertheles, he proved himself and the murmurs died down. He was tangled up in politics and endless discussions for many years, taking his mind off the hidden threat in the North.  
Many faces came and went, Protectors from all over the world. He saw the Dark Dragon rise and end twice. The world was quiet.

__

But then they returned. And he answered the call.

__

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I greatly enjoy fleshing out some minor characters like the Dragon Council and I have headcanons for all of them. I have one chapter on Kukulkhan planned that I will work on, and maybe I'll do the other Council members. I especially want to write about characters that Fanfics have not really touched yet, so most likely no main characters. But if you have any ideas, just leave a comment :)


	3. Kukulkhan Orillo - The Survivor

He had been given the name of a God at birth. Kukulkhan, his mother had called him, crying from happiness, named after the Serpent who was rumoured to have blessed their family with scales and wings. She was the next leader of their Dragon Clan and Kukulkhan would follow in her footsteps after guarding Guatemala for many years.  
But fate had other plans.  
They came in the night, with their spears and masks and their marks.  
He had always found the family gatherings boring. But then he was nine and he would pray, clutching his shattered knee and cowering under the bushes, that this was just a dream. That the screams piercing through the night were just a horrible, horrible nightmare.  
And then she stood over him. A woman with the same mask as the others, spear over her head. And he closed his eyes and prepared to die.  
But she didn't strike. He remembered her eyes, a frigid blue. "Run", she whispered instead and he struggled to his feet. Adrenaline overcame pain and he ran, leaving the massacre behind.  
He was found, days later by other dragons. He did not have to ask. He knew what had happened.  
_The Slaughter_ the other dragons would call it in their files and whisper it whenever he would pass them. The Huntsclan gained many more full members that day.  
81 dead. And only one survivor.

Kukulkhan did not know why the Huntswoman had spared him. But sometimes he wished that she hadn't.

Many had expected him to crumble, to break. That the last of the Orillo Clan would not see adulthood.  
But he emerged from the ashes of his family, claiming his birthright from the blood spilled that night.  
The Guatemalan Dragon took flight on his tenth birthday. 

He was young. Too young, many would say. A _child_.  
But he guarded his country with courage and determination. He could not have lived and remained a child.

He was passionate as an adult, making sure the voice of those under his wing would be heard. He discussed, negotiated and fought, fought with all his might for those that could not. And whenever someone with the mark crossed his path, he would not hold back.

The Huntsclan migrated north, away from South America towards the United States and Kukulkhan could not help but feeling glad to see them leave. A Chinese dragon guarded the territory until a protector would be necessary. And it would not be long, Kukulkhan knew that. Too many creatures had settled down in these lands in the last years, too many conflicts had arisen. The arrival of the Huntsclan would finally give rise to the First American Dragon.  
But Councilor del Fuego hesitated. He observed, calculated and discussed for too long. He could have stopped the Huntsclan long before they took hold in America, before they were able to become so dangerous. It cost him his life in the end.  
And Kukulkhan followed him as the American Dragon Councilor. _Councilor Kukulkhan_ he insisted on being called, like he had insisted on being Dragon Kukulkhan. The name of his family was stained with too much blood. Far too much to ever wear it again.

And he was Councilor when the young girl stood before them. She had helped them defeat the Dark Dragon but she bore the mark on her hand. The mark that had cost so many lives. The mark that had taken everything from Kukulkhan.  
She stood there, with wide blue eyes, staring up at them and the magical world waited on the verdict that Kukulkhan would shout. The verdict that seemed so obvious to everyone.  
But Kukulkhan had always been good for a surprise.  
"Not Guilty."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another Dragon Councilor, Kukulkhan this time. And I headcanon that Councilor del Fuego is the dragon skull adorning the Huntsmasters head in the series.  
> For the ending, I think the Council would judge Rose after the fight with the Dark Dragon and the whole magical community expected him to sentence Rose for crimes (that she may or may not have commited, timelines are complicated '^^).  
> Any suggestions for the future? Or maybe even the name of an OC and a country ;)


	4. Trauma

He went to Omina when he wanted someone to dismantle his fears and worries with logic and fact, when he needed her to tell him that his anxieties were irrational and that he had nothing to worry about, that it was not his fault that he survived. Afterwards he would look at her new machines and she would tell him about them, taking his mind off his own past.

He went to Andam, when he needed to ramble without someone interrupting. Andam would sit there and nod, not saying a word until his throat was hoarse and the words would no longer come out. Afterwards Andam would make him tea and they would drink in silence, his mind wonderfully empty and tongue heavy.

He went to Kulde, when he needed someone to _understand,_ to curse at the gods with, to swear, to scream and to throw some old statues at the wall, to brawl and to fight until his body ached from pains new and not from scars that would not heal. Afterwards they would drink whatever alcohol Kulde had brought from Norway and Kukulkhan would pass out on his couch, feeling relieved.

But in all their years together, Kukulkhan never once went to Chang. And he was not surprised when her true loyalties were revealed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a short thing I wrote a while back. Different People can provide different angles


End file.
